You're Not Alone
by Carly the Llama
Summary: No matter how strong a person may be on the outside, even the strongest superheroes needs a release from their troubles. Chat Noir's momentary emancipation from the suffering in his life comes in the form of the most horrible coping mechanism: self-harming. What will Ladybug do when she finds out? LadyNoir. Two-shot. Reveal.
1. Chapter 1

**Trigger warnings – Self harm and suicidal thoughts.**

Such a small knife it was, only about six inches in length, and yet it's edge was so acuminous and sharp. It was a small birthday gift from his father instead of a pen that year, and he felt guilty for using it for such sickening purposes, but he figured it was his now; so, it was his choice, his right to do whatever he wanted with it.

He swallowed hard as he unzipped his superhero suit, revealing his scarred bare biceps, his green eyes wandering over the scars, varying from pink to white, ranging from deep to shallow. It was wrong, it was so bloody wrong, what he was doing to himself; but he just couldn't make himself care. He needed it, he needed the physical pain it caused to take his mind away from his overwhelming emotions, from his problems; he needed the blood to keep his attention, his sadistic fascination.

He briefly wondered how his friends would react to this, how Ladybug would react to this, since she was partly the reason for it. It's not that he hated her for it or blamed him for it. On the contrary, Ladybug was best thing in his life, and there was nothing she could have done differently to stop this.

He did this while transformed on the rooftop of an abandoned building. Nobody would find him, and this way Plagg was unaware, because the kwami wasn't aware when Adrien was transformed, so as long as he concealed his biceps—which was achieved by his normal clothing—he was fine.

And then suddenly, his eyes grew wet, his vision became blurred, and a small sob formed inside his chest, and he slowly eased his eyes to a close, releasing his tears.

Because... because out of so many people on this Earth, why did it have to be him? Why did destiny have make him be alone and isolated? Neglected by his father and only lectured? He didn't wish it upon anyone, the pain and the loneliness. He wasn't strong enough; the gods should've known that. He couldn't bear this weight. He didn't deserve a Miraculous either, someone who did this.

And now he was holding a knife in his hands, and crying so hard he could barely breathe, and he couldn't stop; because he just wanted to end it all, despite knowing he couldn't. He wanted to be selfish, just once, because he had already given enough, and now there was no strength left in him to lose anymore.

But knew he couldn't leave his Lady to fend for herself, even though he was expendable and easily replaced, he felt the responsibility of protecting her fell to him. He couldn't leave Paris vulnerable to Hawk Moth.

So, he pushed those suicidal thoughts out of his head. He sniffed softly and swiped the back of his hand against his cheeks, and then placed the edge of the knife against his left bicep, right below a very old scar and above a slightly recent one, about a few weeks old perhaps, he wasn't sure about the exact period of time.

And he dragged the knife across his bicep.

Blood formed instantly from the newly-made cut, ruby red liquid rising above the surface of his skin, slowly trickling down the side of his arm in a thin trail. His features that were previously set in stone, vacant and impassive, were now slightly twisted in pain.

He wasn't worried about anyone seeing him. It was night and this building was abandoned, which meant nobody would be coming. It wasn't Ladybug's patrol tonight, so he was sure the beloved wouldn't need him anymore, and she would certainly not be looking for him.

He couldn't have been more wrong.

Because when he began to make the next cut…

A gentle hand, encircling his upper forearm, stopped him; and then slowly steered the knife away from his skin.

He swallowed, and his wet, red-rimmed pale green eyes nervously flickered up to meet a pair of intense bluebell orbs, which belonged to none other than Ladybug.

His wide, panicked eyes quickly ducked down, staring down at Ladybug's feet.

 _No, no, no, no._ She caught him. She saw what he was doing. Oh God, how would he ever be able to look her in the eye after what she found of him?

But then, the warmth of two fingers under his chin, lifting his head up to meet them again.

"I guess I always knew you were hiding something, Chaton." Ladybug's voice was soft, gentle, comforting even—like when she would talk to akuma victims after being purified. She never used that tone with Chat, and it was such a huge emphasis on how _wrong_ this was, what he was doing, on how broken he was. "I just never thought it'd be this." She added, her voice now a sad whisper.

His stomach clenched at the pain in her eyes, the pity in her voice.

But he knew, somehow, he knew, there was more than just pity.

There was caring—true, honest caring.

"You never fail to surprise me." She said softly. The warmth under his chin was gone, now dropping to his shoulders.

"Whatever it is, Chat. You know you can tell me." She offered earnestly.

Chat's heart started pounding against his ribcage, his eyes filling again with tears. Her tone, the sincere desire to help in her eyes, her words that can only be spoken by a true friend, a partner; he was tempted to tell her everything, in the hopes she might accept him for who he was.

But he couldn't.

And that was why the dull ache in his heart returned, why the tears came back. Something clogged his throat, a bitter taste on his tongue, and his breaths came out shuddery. He swallowed, his face crumpling as he stared into his friend's... his partner's eyes. "I... I c-can't... can't t-te..." He was cut off by his own sob, unable to talk any further as a stream of hard, gasping sobs wracked his thin body.

Ladybug sat down beside him, "Chat, you don't need to hide something so serious as to make you do this from me." Then she realized, "Can you not tell me because it would reveal your identity?"

A shake of the head, then a nod, followed by more sobs. She gasped silently, and Chat wouldn't have heard if he didn't have superhuman hearing.

"Chaton, keeping our identities secret doesn't matter if it means you can't talk to me…I couldn't bear it if you…" she hesitated, "went too far." But he knew what she was implying.

He looked up, "T…Thank you, M'Lady…But I'm not ready—" he started crying again, partially out of mortification for being caught, and some because his Lady really did care about him. He wanted to tell her, but it just sounded stupid when he said it out loud, and he didn't want her seeing him any more differently than she would now.

And that was okay, because he didn't have to tell her. Not yet at least. Ladybug understood and respected that.

Her arms wrapped around his thin shoulders and his back, one hand on the back of his head, the other fisted against his shoulder blade, and she tugged his forehead against her collarbone, wordlessly holding him as he cried.

She slipped a piece of paper in his pocket,

"If you need me, my e-mail is on there. I will always listen, and I will never judge you."

"Thank you, Bugaboo."

 **A/N: Hey guys! I hope you enjoyed it, hope it wasn't too OOC—I mean, come on, that poor boy has been put through the ringer, and how else would Ladybug react to her best friend/partner/love of her life's tears and the fact that he self-harms.**

 **Review if you want me to continue, otherwise it can just be a one-shot.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: And day three of my "Make Adrien Miserable" trend. If Zoe was real (Fireheart) she'd beat the shit out of me.**

 **Honestly though, I have been going through a rough patch, which is better now. I've been trying a new experimental treatment for my migraines because they would get so severe I fainted in school once, but there are side effects, like suicidal thoughts. It's on-off—usually off, thank god—but these last few days have been on due to having some problems with my parents and writing fanfiction is the way I cope, so I decided to take it out on poor Adrien.**

 **Needless to say, I'm more off my rocker than usual.**

 **And by popular demand, this is now a two-shot. Enjoy.**

…

It took time, but Adrien did use Ladybug's e-mail to talk to her, fashioning a new one for himself under the name Chat Noir. At first, it was casual, but within the month, he started slowly unloading his troubles onto her, and she did what she could to assure him.

She asked him to stop cutting, offering less harmful alternatives.

And he did stop, after the night she caught him.

But it didn't last for as long as they'd have like, because things had taken an ugly turn and he was once again holding the small blade in his hands, hiding in the bathroom, ready to cut. Hawk Moth was defeated, and when Chat ran off and changed to Adrien, finally given the chance to react the way he wanted to: horrified and sickened. He asked why, and his father… no… _Gabriel_ … lunged at him, saying he knew nothing of love, that he was just an accident, and that he was disowned.

Because the media was given the impression Adrien had been an anonymous tip on the Hawk Moth subject—which he technically was as he found out by witnessing his father shrieking at the Butterfly kwami and immediately told Ladybug—and Gabriel was charged with child abuse, the disownment was unofficial and meant nothing, so he now lived alone in the mansion with nobody but Gorilla to keep him company.

He couldn't go outside as Adrien. Not for a while. Most people believed his innocence, but there were some—namely the parents of those akumatized—who didn't think there was any way he'd not only know nothing, but betray his father immediately.

Betray. He had betrayed his father, but it was for the greater good. At least that was what he told himself and what Plagg said, but it felt bitter on his tongue because he knew he had turned on the one person who had loved him.

And so, he was crying, holding the knife to his bicep just like before. Just a little more pressure and his skin would split.

"Adrien? Chaton?" Not again. He stopped pressing the knife down, looked up, and was met with Ladybug's dismayed and stunned stare.

…

Ladybug didn't know how to react, but all of a sudden, the pieces clicked into place completely. She had gone to check on Adrien, knowing he'd had it rough the last few weeks, but instead she found him looking just like Chat Noir that night that still haunted her. The knife was the same, that very same blade that haunted her sleeping moments, images of it going deeper and in more dangerous places keeping her up. And he looked so small and vulnerable, something that until recently, Ladybug hadn't thought possible of her dorky partner.

Over the last few months, Chat had been gentler, quieter, almost like he was embarrassed to have been caught. The one thing Ladybug hadn't liked about him that prevented her from having romantic feelings was the cockiness, but knowing that it was just compensating for the misery in his life had made her feel awful. Seeing the real him, especially when he started opening up and goofing around again, made her crush begin switching from Adrien to her partner.

But here, now, seeing for herself that the two were one in the same, she felt sick, because she knew how awful Gabriel had treated Adrien, and knowing your own father had been trying to kill you both as a civilian—she was still pissed about the Style Queen and Gorizilla incidents—and as a superhero, had to be really hard.

She bent down beside him and took the knife from his loose fingers. He looked away from her,

"I'm sorry." Was all he said, but he choked on his own tears. Never had she wanted to see Adrien or Chat cry, because it just seemed so out of character, but now she did, because the reason he never cried was because he held it all in. Him crying now meant he was able to let go. So, she held him like she had many times now, cursing Gabriel to hell—damning every hair on that man's head and every drop of blood in his veins—for making this precious human being suffer.

She looked down and noticed he was shirtless, but there weren't any new cuts, but the skin was red and puckered from where he had been pressing when she'd arrived, and the scars were no older than when she caught him before. He really had stopped.

"Chaton, it's okay, I'm glad I got here in time." She looked him in the eye, "But I see you've been doing a good job not to anymore."

Adrien still looked upset, "I'm sorry. I know you didn't want to know my identity."

"Remember what I said before? I would gladly give it up to make sure you have someone you can talk to always. Spots off." Marinette looked up to an awestruck Adrien, "See?"

"M-Marinette…It's you, after all this time, it's been you." He wasn't disappointed like she had feared, he was…laughing? "How had I not seen it?!" His voice cracked a little, but he no longer seemed ready to end it all.

…

Plagg flew in, "Adrien?" He saw the knife, "No…" he flew down and held it in his tiny hands, activating Cataclysm and the blade turned to black dust and crumbled. Tikki assured him that everything was okay, and Adrien was shocked to find his cheese gremlin crying, hugging his neck. He'd forgotten he had never told his kwami what he did to himself, so this was the first time Plagg was reacting to it.

Marinette was Ladybug. Somewhere in the back of his subconscious, he had already known, because not only had he once compared her to Ladybug, he wasn't even the slightest bit surprised right now. He was still mortified that his classmate, his friend, had known what he did to himself and judging by the fact she had nodded off in class a couple times, he was costing her her sleep.

Marinette seemed to see what was going on in his head, "I'm glad you told me." She cupped his cheek, "It's not healthy to bottle these things up. But now, you can explain everything to me in detail, no more secrets. You are not alone, and never will be again."

And he did. It took hours, well into the early morning, but he explained everything from his mother's disappearance—and apparent death as his father had been trying to bring her back to life—to the neglect and harshness and isolation. The pain of his father hating him was immense, but with the love of his life, he didn't care about that for the moment.

She listened, nodding along and genuinely caring about what he was saying. He got to pour his heart out completely to someone who wouldn't judge. She laughed and cried with him and let him pause when it was too painful.

Over the next few years, Ladybug and Chat Noir were inseparable, just like Adrien and Marinette. Both were happier, knowing they were no longer alone.

And there were no more scars on Adrien Agreste, ever again.


End file.
